Stitches
by LadyAlambiel
Summary: Stitches... And the worst patients the healers of Cair Paravel have ever dealt with are... Part of the 24 in 24 Authors' Challenge.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: Stitches... And the worst patients the healers of Cair Paravel have ever dealt with are... Part One-Part of the 24 in 24 Authors' Challenge.

A/N: Short story requested/suggested by Lady Firewing. Hope you enjoy it! This is part of my _A Light in the Darkness_ universe but can be read as a standalone.

**Part One**

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1 Fairdawn 1003

_Oreius is going to kill me._ Considering my current situation, he might be the easier way to go anyway. Two Werewolves, three Ankle slicers, a Ghoul, and a Manticore (I didn't even know Narnia came with Manticores!) were circling me and all had the same singular thing on their minds: Let's eat Katerina Alambiel! I also had a singular thing on my mind: I hate Murphy. How do I end up in these situations?

I was grateful I had remembered Chrysaor when I went riding that morning...because seven opponents with just my knives would have been a tiny bit of a tall order, especially the Manticore (and I didn't want to get any closer to him than I absolutely had to). I shifted my grip slightly as I tried to keep my eyes on the most dangerous of the Fell while also still maintaining an awareness of the slightly less menacing but no less lethal smaller Fell. This was always the trickiest part of a fight with multiple opponents (as opposed to just having one person trying to kill and/or eat you...since _that's_ so much easier to deal with) but since one of Oreius' favorite training exercises was to have his three students swarmed by other soldiers, I was fairly certain I could handle it. That is if I evened the odds quickly.

The Ghoul lunged first. His attack was sloppy. I brought Chrysaor up in an arc, slicing through his rough spear before twisting the blade to ram between his ribs. The Ghoul dropped with a shriek. I immediately turned to the right just avoiding a swipe by the leaner of the two Werewolves. One down, six to go.

For whatever reason the Manticore suddenly fell back allowing the Werewolves and those nasty little Ankle Slicers to take the fore...and I was okay with that (can you blame me? I mean it's a Manticore!). The leaner Werewolf snarled, "Eat you, Alambiel." Lovely, another nutty Werewolf wants to eat me and he knows my name. Is there a Werewolf newsletter that says 'Attention All Werewolves! There's a new delicacy in town called Katerina Alambiel. Eat Her If You Can!'?

He snarled again, "Eat you, Alambiel. Eat you whole." I hate Werewolves. And, for whatever reason the skinnier they are, the crazier they sound. He rushed me and I twisted out of the way, only to wince when the Ankle Slicers tried to live up to their official names (I have my own name for them: evil naked parrots) and grazed their blades at about the height of my Achilles tendon. Fortunately, they didn't land any very deep blows due to my movement and my boot. I kicked one, which resulted in a nasty crunching sound as it crumpled to the ground, then ducked under the Werewolf as he leapt at me. I slid a dagger free and cut the head off one evil naked parrot then pinned the other one to an exposed tree root. Disgusting, just disgusting. But, at least I didn't have to worry about them anymore.

The growl was the only warning I had. Instinctively, I thrust Chrysaor up and over my left shoulder. Oreius would have criticized my form on that one. A lean, rangy, and horrendously smelly body crashed into me. I jerked my head to the right just as I heard the growl changed into a yelp then shifted into a whimper. Teeth snapped together, just missing my head and neck, as deadweight settled painfully on my shoulders and neck. I staggered but I didn't have time to stop. _Move! Move! Move! You stop moving, you die. Never stop moving in battle. _A mantra I had heard Oreius repeating time and again in the course of nearly two full years of training with him. He was right, I couldn't afford to stop moving (although I usually don't tell him just how useful I have found his training on top of the training I received from Charlie and his men). So, I bucked, successfully tumbling the dead Werewolf off before I whirled to see the other larger Werewolf springing at me.

I threw myself to the side, holding Chrysaor out and away from my body so I wouldn't skewer myself (wouldn't _that_ be an embarrassing way to die?). However, the Werewolf was a shade faster and his claws raked painfully down my left forearm. I gasped as I landed on my side then rolled onto my back, barely bringing my feet up in time to catch the Werewolf in the ribs as he leapt on me. I shoved him away and jumped back to my feet with Chrysaor at the ready. The Werewolf peeled his lips back in a vicious-looking snarl before he licked my blood off his claws all the while staring at me with a much stronger hunger than earlier. Eeeewwww. Have I mentioned I hate Werewolves?

Time for a game change. I raised Chrysaor in a mocking salute before I rushed the Werewolf. He looked delighted...how comforting. Then he charged straight at me. I didn't break off my charge. Instead, I ducked under his outstretched claws and thrust Chrysaor between his ribs. Using his momentum, I slammed my hip into him and tossed him over my back, flipping the Fell Beast to land on his back as I twisted out from under him, taking Chrysaor with me.

A thin thread of alarm threatened to choke me as I realized that in the midst of the scuffle with the two Werewolves...I had lost track of the Manticore. I ignored the niggling urge to bolt. There was no way I was going to let the Manticore stay out here loose and alive. This particular clearing wasn't all that far from one of the meadows Lucy frequented. No, I wasn't going to let him get away.

Keeping my movement steady and unhurried, I causally turned in a slow circle. The wound to my left forearm was stinging and I knew I couldn't wait long to confront the Manticore. And, apparently, he didn't want to wait either. "So, you are the defeater of sorcerers? I thought you would be taller."

I turned to my right and the Manticore was less than eight feet away, looking down at me from his perch in the branches of a gnarled old oak (of course, due to Murphy, none of the trees in this area had Dryads, which was a tad annoying). I wasn't certain whether I was glad or not that the Manticore was a highly sentient Fell Beast, plus there was something odd about his accent...he didn't sound Narnian... I didn't have the chance to mull over the puzzle any further as the Manticore leapt down from his perch and stalked toward me. He stopped and sniffed the air, "You do not look very intimidating, but you did defeat six Fell, no matter that only the Werewolves proved much of a challenge. However, you did not escape unscathed, o lady knight of Narnia."

All I could think in that moment was...Greek mythology did not even begin to cover just how ugly the Manticore was! The fangs jutting out from the rather leonine mouth and jaw marred the human face, both the mane and the fur of his leonine body were scruffy and ragged...almost like he had mange, and then there was the menacing scorpion's tail (I had a feeling that the rule about scorpions, you know, the bigger they are, the less lethal their poison is to larger beings, didn't apply to this guy). I ignored the burning protest of my injured arm and raised Chrysaor, "Don't worry, I'm tougher than I look."

He growled. I had to be careful. This was the first time I fought a Manticore and what's more I wasn't sure where his weak points were located and I was injured...this was quickly turning into a worst-case scenario. Aslan, let me get out of this alive and in one piece.

His tail snapped forward menacingly and I focused my attention on it. The scorpion tail and its poison could not be allowed to last any longer than necessary. Now I just needed to get past the equally dangerous front end to deal with it. I approached it as if I was sparring with one of the big Cats...an extremely ugly and unfriendly big Cat. I ran forward then jumped to the side when he tried to swipe me with his claws, but leaving him with a long gash down his side from my blade. Spinning to face him again, I finally allowed myself to enter the warrior's center. Everything beyond the Manticore and myself faded as my awareness focused solely on the immediate threat. I gave a little hop, pushing off with my right foot, and ran forward, swinging Chrysaor with all my might as the Manticore's tail darted at me. The Manticore roared in pain as the blade decapitated his tail just below the stinger. He whirled, aiming another swipe at me. I sidestepped the blow then lunged at him. Confused and distracted from the pain of his wounds, the Manitcore didn't recover in time and I drove Chrysaor into his open mouth. His jaws reflexively snapped shut then opened as he gagged around the blade before he toppled to the ground, ripping Chrysaor from my grasp. The light had already faded from his red eyes by the time his body touched the ground. Oh, thank Aslan that actually worked.

I was still in the warrior's center, which is probably what saved my life. A soft thud was all I heard and then I instinctively threw myself backward and to the right. The whistling sound of a blade cutting through the air where I had just been standing accompanied my movement. I landed on my back and rolled out of the way as my attacker jumped at me. I unsheathed my sai knives and caught the descending blade between them then thrust up, knocking the blade away. Scrambling back to my feet, I was a little surprised to see a Satyr. But, he wasn't one of ours, no this Satyr was Fell (after a while, you can tell who's turned Fell or not).

He glared at me and spat, "Die Witch!" Again with the name-calling, how rude (not to mention it was completely unoriginal). He lunged forward, swinging his curved blade at my torso. I caught the edge of his sword with my knife and shoved up as I stepped forward and slashed at his exposed side with my other knife. He wheeled away clutching the bloody gash through his fur, but then he tossed his head arrogantly and attacked again. I took advantage of the difference in our builds and kicked his leg then shoved his blade aside, allowing me to duck inside his guard and bury both knives in his upper rib cage. It was an instantly fatal wound...and far more merciful than anything he would have done to me.

I stepped back from the body and released my hold of the warrior's center. I was panting as I stood in the middle of the clearing, adrenaline still coursing through me. Eight Fell and I was still alive. I breathed a silent prayer of thanks. Grabbing a cleaning cloth, I quickly wiped the blood and fur from my knives and slid them back into the sheaths under my tunic. Next, I collected and cleaned the dagger I had used to skewer the Ankle Slicer before I pulled Chrysaor free of the Manticore. I paused before cleaning Chrysaor and instead took the added step of making sure the Manticore and both Werewolves were completely dead with a single stab wound at the base of their skulls. An unpleasant but necessary task.

The adrenaline rush abandoned me just as I finished sliding Chrysaor back into its sheath and I sucked in a breath as pain seared its way up my left side and arm. I raised my arm slightly and looked to see that a dark stain was lining the edges of a long tear in my tunic...one of them had landed a blow. I glanced around and spotted the Satyr's blade...there was blood staining the blade. I ran over my memory of the fight and decided he must have landed the blow in the first initial attack. Well, that was inconvenient since I suspected I would have to allow one of the healers to look at it.

I stubbornly ignored the pain as I walked (a couple wobbles do not count as limping) away from the clearing. It took roughly forty minutes for me to retrace my steps back to the stream where I first noticed the odd tracks. Thankfully, Sasha was patiently waiting where I had left her. The mare sidestepped and tossed her head nervously when she smelled the blood, but calmed as I murmured to her in Irish, "A bheith fós, ná bíodh imní ort, a bheith fós, a bheith socair. A bheith fós, hush, a bheith socair, a bheith fós, tá gach maith." (_Be still, do not worry, be still, be calm. Be still, hush, be calm, be still, all is well._)

I fished a spare dark cloak out of the saddlebags and wrapped it around myself, hoping it would be enough to deter any curious or unfriendly eyes from determining that I had been injured. I hissed from the pain lancing up and down my left side as I awkwardly pulled myself into the saddle. Oh yeah, I was definitely going to have to see a healer once I reached the Cair. It was a two-hour ride to the Cair, but I kept Sasha to a sedate walk so the sun had nearly set by the time we rode through the main gates. A young Faun ran out and led Sasha to the stables the moment I dismounted.

I took care to only use the halls where none of the Talking Beasts were present...last thing I needed was for one of them to smell the blood on me and then raise a big to-do about it. Entering the healers' wing, I was slightly surprised not to see Alithia around, but that was actually in my favor since Alithia always reported my injuries (and those of the kings) to Oreius even if it wasn't that bad. Instead, one of the junior healers waved me over to the cot nearest him. I didn't recognize the Faun, "You're new."

Poor thing turned into a bundle of nerves when he got a good look at me and realized who I was, nearly dropping his supplies when I spoke, "Oh y-y-yes, D-d-d-dame S-S-S-Sepphora, I-I-I am. I-I-I j-j-just arr-arrived l-l-last Sixthday." If I had said "boo", he might have fainted. I was good and resisted the temptation to see if my theory was correct (shocking I know). He gulped then motioned for me to slip out of my cloak, I did and he immediately whispered, "O-o-oh d-d-dear."

I sighed, "That bad, is it?"

He gulped again then managed to say without stuttering, "I need you to slip out of your tunic so I can get a better look." He paused and the stutter reappeared, "W-w-what d-d-did th-th-this?"

"You tell me. Or better yet, you can tell me your name."

He blushed as he mumbled, "L-Linus." By then, I had slipped out of my tunic, ignoring the painful protests such an action earned, and continued sitting patiently on the cot in my cropped undershirt. He lost his stutter again as he leaned forward to stare at my wounds, occasionally prodding them (until I hissed at him and he nearly fell over in an attempt to put space between us) as he examined me. "Oh dear, oh dear, I do think this gash down your side needs stitches and the middle gash down your left forearm is in need of stitches as well."

I was afraid he would say that. I scowled at the thought of how this could affect my role in the upcoming battle with the Calormene encroachers rumored to be harassing Narnia's southern border. If Oreius even caught a hint that I might be minimally injured, he would forbid my participation in any capacity, not even assisting the healers (probably because he knew I would find my way into the thick of things one way or another). However, stitches didn't necessarily mean that I would be unable to fight. "Stitch me up."

Linus gulped again and nodded before he handed me a rolled up cloth (after I gave the drugged drink a death glare...I couldn't afford to be unconscious in the healing wing...it's how you get caught) to clench between my teeth. It was a painful process and I was thankful, okay make that extremely thankful, it was over once he finally finished. I pulled the cloth out and asked, "Now tell me, can I still train?"

Linus started badly, nearly dropping all his supplies again, and his stutter was back in full force. The temptation to say "boo" and see if he fainted was also back in full force. "O-o-oh w-w-well, I-I-I s-s-suppose y-y-you c-c-can i-i-if y-y-you t-t-t-take pre-pre-precautions. Y-y-yes, a l-l-light t-t-tr-training r-r-regimen sh-sh-should s-s-suf-f-fice f-f-for the r-r-rest o-o-of the w-w-week." I nodded and carefully slipped my tunic over my head again, hiding the bandages from view (good thing it was a dark brown tunic so the blood stain wasn't instantly obvious, especially from a distance). Linus raised a hand and added, "U-u-unless of c-c-course y-y-your st-st-stitches p-p-pull m-m-more th-th-than th-they sh-should, th-then y-y-you sh-should s-st-stop w-w-what y-y-you are d-d-doing im-m-mediately."

I nodded again, "I understand, Linus. Good evening." I escaped from the healers' wing before Linus could call me back. I used one of the secret tunnels to make the trip from the hall outside the healers' wing to the hall my quarters were situated on (only way I could be certain of not running into anyone who would report my less than meticulous attire to the paranoid Kentauri who would overreact if he knew). Finally reaching my room I was extremely grateful to just change, clean up, and slip into bed ignoring the minor twinges from my left side and arm. So long as I was careful there would be no reason to do anything different from my normal routine.

Next morning I received a sharp reminder of the presence of my stitches when I sat up a tad carelessly, but I carefully checked under the bandages and there wasn't any blood, so I hadn't popped any stitches (just tugged them a little). Other than a couple more twinges, I managed to get ready for the day without any difficulty. The one concession I made was to make sure I wore one of the tunics that laced up the front so I wasn't reaching over my head anymore than absolutely necessary...well I also had to wear a different pair of boots thanks to the evil naked parrots (also had a narrow cut across my ankle due to their handiwork). Of course, I hardly ever wear anything but long sleeves even in the summer (so I can stash an extra knife or two), so no one would suspect anything by the fact I was wearing long sleeves (and hiding the bandage on my left arm). Susan was taking advantage of the fact that Lucy was in the Lone Islands, tending to the Lord's wife who had become deathly ill and was in sore need of the cordial, to plan a large party in celebration of Lucy's eleventh birthday (which wasn't for another two weeks exactly). As a result, the halls and the main courtyard were nearly empty as I made my way to the training yard, which meant no one was around to tattle on me if they had somehow figured out I wasn't exactly in tip-top shape at that particular moment.

Entering the armory, I was somewhat surprised to find Oreius was _not _already waiting for me. Training was going to be rather uncomplicated since Oreius and I were the only ones of our small group of teachers and students who were even in the Cair at the moment. Peter and Edmund had ridden out two days ago with Ardon and a small escort to meet with Cletus near the last sighting of the Calormene soldiers, while Oreius had only just returned from tending to a pressing matter with his tribe yesterday morn. Otherwise, he would have been with the Kings and I would have been...still stuck here at the Cair waiting for word that the rumors were confirmed before moving out. I carefully stretched, taking the measure of how far I could move before I felt the stitches up my side tugging in an ominous warning of 'popped stitches ahead'...I had more range than I had originally thought. I slipped on my leather jerkin (carefully of course) and was getting ready to put on my vambraces and cuirass when Oreius finally walked in. I smirked as I teased him, "Have a late night, Oreius? Or, by some unfathomable event, did you actually sleep past dawn this morn?" What? I'd been waiting almost two full years to tease him about being late...did you really think I was just going to let this golden opportunity pass me by?

He gave me the look that said he thought I was being a bit of a pest (okay, maybe more than a bit), "Are you this impertinent to your enemies, Katerina Alambiel?"

I grinned, "Nope. I'm only impertinent to my friends. I'm rudely sarcastic to my enemies. There's a difference, Kentauri."

He raised an eyebrow at me, "Oh, such as in your treatment of the Calormene ambassador last month?"

"He deserved everything he got and then some. I refuse to be lectured again for the matter." I shook my head as I tried to clamp down on my irritation, "You know as well as I that that ambassador was nothing more than a spy sent by the Tisroc to find out if it was true about the Four being young. Besides, he was rude."

"So, you're saying you pushed the Calormene ambassador into a fountain because he called you a demon?"

I ducked my head as I tried not to laugh at the memory of that pompous blowhard of a jerk floundering in the fountain. "Oh come on, you act as though I was trying to drown him! I shoved him when he got too close, but the falling into the fountain because he tripped over the train of his robes...that was a bonus. Not to mention there were maybe three inches of water in that particular fountain...of course, after he fell in, it was more like an inch maybe. By the way, he called you a demon, _I'm_ the barbarian demon witch. Although that's not what he called me before I shoved him, it was more insulting since he called me a w-"

I abruptly cut myself off once I realized Oreius was no longer looking amused and more like he was waiting for me to give him a good reason to go down to Tashbaan and do something unpleasant and permanent to the ambassador. Yeah, there was a reason I never told him or anyone else for that matter that the ambassador impugned my honor in a decidedly nasty and lewd manner. Oh yes, the paranoid and overprotective Centaur looking at me definitely did not need to know the details of the ambassador's insulting proposal, and Oreius was now trying to figure out what I had just barely kept myself from revealing. _Oh well done, Katerina Alambiel. _I needed to distract him and quick. "Oreius, have you ever dealt with Manticores?" I should have finished my cup of coffee before coming down to the armory because I just distracted him by bringing up the other subject I wanted to avoid. And, it did distract him.

He gave me a surprised look, "I have only ever seen three Manticores in Narnia and two were before the Long Winter. Why do you ask?"

Yes, why do I ask? Other than my powers of distraction went all willy-nilly at the most inopportune time. I shrugged a little, "They were mentioned in one of the books I was reading last night, but there weren't a lot of details." Of course, I had been looking in that book because I remembered seeing the little blurb and wanted an accounting of someone else's dealing with the Manticore, so not a lie...just not the full, detailed, and completely mapped out truth.

Oreius shook his head, "I doubt you'll find many detailed accounts concerning Manticores. They don't often come into Narnia since they actually live in the deserts south of Calormen. They hate it here in the North, too cold for them. The one that Jadis kept with her after she ensnared the country in her endless winter allowed himself to be killed during a skirmish with the Resistance."

Interesting. That would explain the accent and he had spoken in a very similar manner to the Calormene dignitaries. I didn't get the chance to ask another question, which was probably a good thing, because Oreius gave me an impatient look as he walked over to me then took over lacing up my cuirass (which was good since things were starting to tug...more), "You are stalling, Dame Sepphora." Was not...oh wait, yes I was.

"No, I was waiting on you to finally show up." And, stalling a little, but only a smidge...not enough for me to admit to it. I finished fastening my vambraces right after he tugged on the back of my cuirass then tightened the laces again. "Chrysaor or knives?"

He pushed me toward the door, "Knives will suffice for today." Thank Aslan since I strongly doubted I would have been able to wield Chrysaor without pulling something. I looked over my shoulder and rolled my eyes at him as we entered the training yard. My silent mocking was met with a stern look as Oreius pointed the way to the exact area he wanted us to spar in (I still don't think this makes any difference on how well or not well we spar during training...I get knocked over at least once no matter which area we're in).

We started off slow, taking our time to build up to a faster pace. I kept my eyes on Oreius, always watching for an opportunity to slip past his guard. My awareness of anything beyond the fight faded as I entered the warrior's center for the second time in as many days. There was nothing beyond the flashing blades, quick turns, strikes and parries, and the pounding beat of one's own heart. I spotted an opening when Oreius stepped to his right leaving his left flank vulnerable. I abandoned all caution and charged, slashing at him with my knives. Oreius countered by grabbing my left arm. I automatically twisted, trying to force him to break his hold and slashing under my raised arm toward his vulnerable middle. He blocked my strike. I kicked at him, causing him to chuckle as he easily avoided my kick. I scowled and focused again on attempting to twist my hand just enough to hit his vambrace with the point of my knife in order to force him to cease using that hand according to the rules of training. He countered by slowly increasing the pressure on my arm until I was finally forced to drop my knife or risk injury. We were moving faster and faster as I finally lunged forward ignoring how Oreius was still holding on to my arm and attempted to slap my hand against his chest plate, declaring him "dead." It was a desperate, last ditch effort, and it didn't work. Instead, Oreius yanked me around, spinning me so my left arm was pulled across my body with his right hand still firmly clamped around my forearm as I now stood with my back to him as he tapped me between my shoulder blades, declaring me dead and the sparring match ended.

I was still in the warrior's center when I first stepped away from him, but I lost it as I turned to face him and a burning flash of pain arced through my arm and side. I couldn't keep from gasping at the pain. Oreius was looking at his right hand in alarm before his eyes shot to mine after I gasped. I stumbled back a step as the pain flared again and again. The danger of slipping into the warrior's center when injured was the risk of overdoing things and worsening one's injuries to the point that a soldier could even bleed to death before realizing what had happened. Our training session was not light...we had been going full-force. I raised my left arm and could see the blood staining the edges and lacing of my vambrace. I looked at Oreius when he called, "Sepphora!"

I blinked and staggered back another step when I saw him. It was still Oreius but he was wearing Mr. Rogers' red sweater (if I hadn't been injured, I would have burst out laughing). That was probably the weirdest thing I had ever seen and I had the epiphany that I was growing delirious from the loss of blood. I must have lost even more blood than I had originally concluded... I whispered, "Bad."

I heard Oreius' alarmed shout, "Alambiel!" But it echoed oddly. The last conscious thought I had was that this was probably the stupidest thing I had ever done and Alithia and Oreius are going to kill me...then the world tilted on its head and I saw the sky spin before blackness enveloped me.

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! Okay, so here is part one of the infamous Stitches incident... Any guesses as to what will happen in part two? Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one.**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: Stitches... And the worst patients the healers of Cair Paravel have ever dealt with are... Part One-Part of the 24 in 24 Authors' Challenge.

A/N: Short story requested/suggested by Lady Firewing. Hope you enjoy it! This is part of my _A Light in the Darkness_ universe but can be read as a standalone.

**Part Two**

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"Alambiel!" I galloped forward as Katerina Alambiel collapsed to the ground. Calling her 'Alambiel' always garnered me some response, even if she ignored her chivalric title. I knew she was hurt as she remained silent. Injuries derived during training were inevitable, but this...there had been no unexpected contact or missteps, and yet her blood was on my hand and she was lying motionless on the ground. Kneeling as soon as I reached her, I picked her up and surged back to my hooves. Several soldiers had come running toward the training yard in response to the shouting, but they all immediately had to scramble out of the way as I galloped past them. I needed to get Katerina Alambiel to Alithia.

I ignored the questions shouted at me by those who rushed to clear a path when they heard the clatter of my hooves. Thankfully, the number of people in the halls were few due to Queen Susan's organizing of the feast to be held in honor of Queen Lucy's birthday. I skidded into the hall where the healers' wing was situated, not daring to take Katerina Alambiel all the way to her quarters and then fetching Alithia. Charging through the doors, I immediately bellowed, "Alithia! Aid!"

There were several junior healers present, but most importantly, Alithia came running from one of the back storerooms. Shock widened her eyes when she saw me carrying an unconscious Katerina Alambiel. "Come, bring her over here. What happened, Oreius?"

My voice took on a grim tone as I ground out, "I do not know."

Alithia jerked around to stare at me, "What do you mean you do not know? What happened in the training yard? That's where she was injured was it not?"

I scowled as I recalled what had happened, "I mean I'm not sure where her injury came from. It didn't happen during training…or at least that is not where she received her initial injury. She collapsed after we finished the first round of sparring."

"Where is she injured?"

I glanced at Alithia out of the corner of my eye as I carefully lowered Katerina Alambiel to lie on the raised cot, "Her arm is bleeding."

Alithia frowned as she stepped forward to start removing Katerina Alambiel's vambraces, "A wound to her arm shouldn't cause her to pass out. Do you-" Alithia cut herself off abruptly. I stared in disbelief at the bloody bandage wrapped around Katerina Alambiel's left forearm. Who- I met Alithia's gaze and I could see the fury in her grey eyes before we both turned to look at the junior healers. As one, they shrank back under our combined glares. Alithia stamped a hoof, "Who treated Dame Sepphora for injuries?"

A Faun started to tremble as soon as he realized Alithia was looking in his direction and then he stuttered, "I-I-I tr-tr-treated h-h-her. H-h-her s-s-side, l-l-left s-s-side..."

Alithia and I didn't even wait for him to finish his sentence as we refocused on Katerina Alambiel. As gently as I could, I held her in place on her right side as Alithia began unlacing her cuirass with the practiced swiftness of decades of getting wounded warriors out of their armor as quickly as possible. I stared at Alambiel's deathly white pallor, silently questioning how she had managed to find danger once again and then answering myself with the simple statement that it was Katerina Alambiel who, thus far in the two years I'd known her, had proven even more prone to injury and potentially deadly situations than both Kings combined. Alithia gasped. I looked up to see she had finished unlacing the cuirass and had partially pulled up the leather jerkin covering Alambiel's tunic in her search for the wound. I barely restrained my own gasp as I took in the sheer amount of blood staining Katerina Alambiel's jerkin, tunic, cuirass, and even her leggings.

I didn't need Alithia's abrupt shout for one of the more experienced junior healers to know it was bad. I had seen enough wounds, mortal and non, in my life to know that Katerina Alambiel was already perilously close to losing too much blood. As the Centauress Callista joined Alithia with her arms already full of healing supplies, I stepped back allowing them to draw the privacy drapes firmly shut around the raised cot. I turned to the remaining junior healers, allowing my glare to settle on the Faun who had first treated Alambiel as I ground out, "How was she wounded?"

The Faun fainted.

I gestured sharply to the others and they quickly roused the Faun. He was trembling and clearly wary of my reaction but this was not the time to coddle a particularly nervous Faun. "What is your name?"

"L-l-l-linus, G-g-g-general."

I gave a curt nod, clenching my fist as I heard a faint cry of pain from behind the drapes. "Faun Linus, how was Dame Sepphora wounded?"

Linus shook as he stuttered his reply, "I d-d-d-don't kn-know, G-g-g-general. Sh-sh-she c-c-came in l-l-l-last n-n-night and w-w-was w-w-wounded."

The Faun was using every ounce of my patience. "Did you note the kind of wounds she received? What made them?"

Linus gulped and trembled even further, for a moment I thought he might faint again, before he finally stuttered, "I-i-it, th-th-th-they w-w-were d-d-different, m-m-multiple a-a-attackers m-m-maybe. I-I-I t-t-told h-h-her to be c-c-c-care-careful o-o-of p-p-pulling h-h-her st-st-stitches."

I glared at him, "You should have informed Alithia immediately that Dame Sepphora had been wounded to the point of needing stitches!"

Linus fainted.

The other junior healers who had retreated as I questioned Faun Linus glanced warily at me, but I had had my fill of attempting to get any detailed useful information out of the Faun. They covered Linus with a blue blanket and moved him to an out-of-the-way cot where he could…recuperate…until Alithia had time to deal with him. My tail swished against my flank, a break in my control as my frustration rose… By the Lion, what had she gotten herself into that she was in such straits?

"General!" I looked up at the sharp screech just as Skeat, one of the Hawks with the army landed on a nearby table, "Dead Fell have been found. Not even twenty miles from Cair Paravel."

I could hear Alithia and Callista murmuring to each other in hushed tones, but the presence of Fell, dead or alive, could not be ignored. Alithia would send word to me if Katerina Alambiel's condition changed. I nodded curtly to Skeat, following him as he led the way from the healers' wing. Lieutenant Sefu was waiting when I finally arrived at the clearing. The Leopard inclined his head but said nothing as I stepped past him to examine the clearing and its cold, still occupants. Two Werewolves, three Ankle slicers, a Ghoul, a Satyr, who I happened to know had gone Fell over five decades ago, and…a Manticore.

_Have you ever dealt with Manticores?_ Now, I understood why Sepphora had asked about my experience with Manticores. There was no doubt in my mind that she was responsible for eliminating the Fell, even before I saw the precise stab wounds to the back of the skulls of the Werewolves and Manticores or the faint imprints left by her boots. I scowled as I spotted dried blood covering the edge of Satyr's sword. At least his hands had administered one of her wounds. I ordered the soldiers to take care of the bodies before I followed her tracks back to a stream where she had apparently left and then returned to Sasha. My scowl deepened as I realized how much had gone wrong and it could have easily been worse for Katerina Alambiel. She was almost more work than she was worth at times.

I dispatched two groups of soldiers, one of which I led, to search for any other signs of Fell activity too close to the Cair than I was comfortable with, especially with the knowledge that a Manticore had been among the Fell Sepphora encountered. To my hidden relief, we found no other Fell, but that didn't stop me from sending word to Captains Ardon and Cletus to take extra care. It was nearly nightfall by the time I returned to the Cair and made my way to the healers' wing, Alithia met me with a grim expression. I feared the worst when she said, "Katerina Alambiel still lives, but she has lost so much blood that she needs Queen Lucy's cordial. However, since neither the Valiant Queen nor her cordial is in the Cair, we must pray that Katerina Alambiel once again proves herself too stubborn to die."

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! Okay, so I originally planned on this being a two-shot but I believe it shall now be anywhere from three to five chapters long. Let me know what y'all thought about this one and what do you think will happen next.**

**Also, please vote in my new poll on my profile about what I should write once I finish _Concealed_ and _Don_'t Judge a _Book. _Your opinion is important!  
**


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: Stitches... And the worst patients the healers of Cair Paravel have ever dealt with are... Part One-Part of the 24 in 24 Authors' Challenge.

A/N: Short story requested/suggested by Lady Firewing. Hope you enjoy it! This is part of my _A Light in the Darkness_ universe but can be read as a standalone.

**Part Three  
**

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Three days had passed since Katerina Alambiel had collapsed on the training grounds. I tended to my duties, but I also took care to check on her condition every night. Pale and still, that is how she looked every time I came to see her. It was alarming that she had lost enough blood that she remained unconscious. But, she still breathed, thank Aslan.

I had set scouts to searching for signs of the Manticore's passage to join the Fell in the clearing where Alambiel had been attacked. But, somehow the Manticore had slipped past the patrols and most of the citizens of Narnia reported nothing out of the ordinary that they had noticed. I feared the Manticore was somehow connected with the Calormene threat harassing our southern border.

Stepping inside the privacy drapes, I searched Alambiel's face for some sign that she had woken since I had last checked on her, but there was none. She remained still and pale, only the slightest rise and fall of her chest testified that she still lived. I shook my head before grasping her hand, "How is it that you, Katerina Alambiel, manage to find the most trouble?"

I paused, half-expecting, half-hoping that she would make some cheeky protest blaming either Fell or that Murphy of hers for the trouble as she usually did. But, she said nothing. She didn't even move. I brushed some strands of hair out of her face then leaned close and whispered a command, "Dame Sepphora, you will keep fighting and you will awaken. And, when you wake, you will listen to the healers for once." I squeezed her hand then left.

Alithia followed me to my study, "Is there any word of the Valiant Queen's return?"

I frowned slightly then gestured at the rain beating against the window, "The storm blowing in has prevented any departure and no other messengers have been able to reach the Lone Islands, all being forced back by this storm." I met Alithia's concerned gaze, "Is she worsening?"

Alithia shrugged, "It is difficult to tell, but I am concerned that she has not woken. I had hoped she would at least briefly. I have asked Tuulea to help me treat her. For now, all we can do is continue to wait for either Queen Lucy to return with her cordial or Katerina Alambiel to awaken."

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A message came the next day for the troops to be assembled. The Calormene troops harassing our border had finally made an appearance. As the troops assembled in the courtyard, I paid one last visit to the healers' wing. Tuulea was sitting by Alambiel's cot when I stepped inside the privacy drapes. "Any change?"

"No, young one, there are no changes. But, do not give up hope. This one enjoys harassing you too much to quietly slip away from us. But, you came here to talk to her, not to me, correct? Of course, you did. I will be outside if she needs me."

Tuulea left me standing there. I shook my head slightly then stepped closer to Katerina Alambiel. Taking her hand, I let my fingers rest on her wrist, feeling the faint beat of her pulse. "Listen to the healers. And, do not try to go south if you wake before we return. You are not allowed to do so." Feeling a little awkward and somewhat useless, I let go of her hand and quickly left, barely sparing Tuulea a glance. Joining the troops as the rain softly fell, I focused on the task at hand, the task where I would actually be of use.

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! Okay, this one is short, but the next chapter will be longer. Do y'all want to see the skirmish with the Calormene soldiers? Leave a review and tell me what y'all thought about this one.**


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: Stitches... And the worst patients the healers of Cair Paravel have ever dealt with are... Part One-Part of the 24 in 24 Authors' Challenge.

A/N: Short story requested/suggested by Lady Firewing. Hope you enjoy it! This is part of my _A Light in the Darkness_ universe but can be read as a standalone.

**Part Four**

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9 Fairdawn 1003

I stood beside the Kings as we examined the map of the border and our chosen battlefield. The Calormene troops were truly only two battalions, which was probably the Tisroc's condition so he may disown them as rogues if they fail as had happened in Narnia's past encounters with Calormen before the Long Winter. I pointed to the Calormene camp, "We must draw them out into the field and cut them off from retreat. Majesties, if we split the army, we can send Captain Sherket and the Big Cats to close in behind the Calormene."

King Edmund nodded, "And, they can scare the horses into panicking, causing more difficulties and removing one avenue of retreat."

I gave a curt nod, proud that the lessons of the past three years showed their fruits, "Indeed. The Calormene are afraid of us and that gives us an advantage." Several more hours passed as we firmed up our plans. Returning to my tent, I prayed Aslan would allow us to defeat this threat with few casualties. I didn't stay in my tent long, too restless to sleep, I left the camp and walked until I found a low bluff where I could easily read the stars, but they held few answers. I had received no word concerning Katerina Alambiel's condition...but I needed to focus. The Kings and their safety in the morrow's battle were my first priority...and Alambiel would never let me hear the end of it if she learned the Kings had been injured because I had been distracted. I did not return to camp until dawn began to lighten the sky and then I threw myself into the task of making sure the officers knew where they had been assigned and what they were to do.

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The first thing that registered was how much my side and arm hurt...and itched. I opened my eyes as I tried to reach the itch (it's really annoying to have an itchy side that hurt at the same time, believe you me). A hand caught mine before I could attack the itch (which was even more annoying, I mean come on, an itch that annoying needed attention) as Tuulea peered at me, "Ah, you are awake finally. Good. Now, you can explain to me what you were thinking, Child. Going to train with Oreius when your left side was full of stitches? By the Lion, such foolishness surpasses the imagination! What were you thinking? Oh, I know, I know, you had a plan as to sneaking into battle with stitches just waiting to be torn! Did you think this would not happen? It did and you nearly died from your foolishness because the Valiant Queen and her cordial are not in the Cair. Training with stitches in and of itself is utter foolery and most reckless. But, to spar with the foremost swordmaster of Cair Paravel and allow yourself to be placed in such a situation that you tore all of your stitches out and nearly bled to death? Foolish child! You will not move from this cot until Alithia and I say so. You most certainly will not be wandering around, getting into more trouble, and tearing more stitches."

I blinked in the wake of Tuulea's rant (little did I know it was only the beginning of the rant at Katerina Alambiel marathon she and Alithia had joined) and rasped, "What happened?" I remembered going to the training yard, it was the rest that was a little fuzzy...in a complete blank sort of way. I also didn't think I could move much at all so her last directive was a bit pointless.

Tuulea shook her finger at me, "What happened you ask? What happened is you went to spar, _spar_, and you tore all of your stitches out and nearly bled to death. Oreius brought you here, and according to Alithia, he was quite concerned. He also already terrorized the foolish junior healer, Linus, before Alithia could get her hands on him. That poor Faun nearly had a complete nervous breakdown thanks to Oreius growling at him and then Alithia also lectured him most thoroughly. And, not one junior healer is permitted to attend you or the Kings without alerting Alithia, Oreius, or, if they are not available, myself. There will not be any more instances of you receiving stitches without the people who will tell you the utter foolishness of your attempted plans knowing about them."

I frowned slightly (only partially because of that infernal itch), "Where's Oreius?"

Tuulea stilled, "South with the Kings and the rest of the army."

I grumbled, "He better not get himself killed and those two pests need to stay in one unbroken piece this time too." Tuulea smiled slightly at my words...her smile grew even bigger when I couldn't help but ask, "Where's the anti-itch cream? My side is killing me, actually it feels like a bunch of ants crawling up and down my skin." She patted my hand and left. Three extremely itchy minutes later, Alithia came in to check my bandages and take over ranting at me.

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10 Fairdawn 1003

We had been battling the Calormenes for three hours. Captain Sherket and her Big Cat battalion had done their work of spooking the horses and now the Calormene camp was in shambles. They called us beasts, demons, and abominations...they believed their own insults and feared us. Our own skill on the battlefield only further drove that fear into their hearts. The Calormene ranks were breaking.

I tried to keep an eye on both Kings, knowing this was the first time they had fought against other humans. Peter, the golden colt, was a magnificent sight as he kept his seat on Faries' back and twisted around to meet each blow by the Calormene who somehow escaped the Unicorn's horn, hooves, and teeth. And, guarding his back was the dark colt, Edmund worked in tandem with Philip as I had taught them. I scowled as the Calormene began shouting something in their language to each other, several of them gestured toward the colts. Following their gestures, I felt fear for the colts wrap itself around my heart as I realized there was a Manticore.

How had we missed the presence of the Fell creature? I didn't know and there was no time for questions. The colts were in danger. I galloped forward, using my swords only to clear my path. I sheathed my swords, swapping them for my claymore. I leapt over a Calormene soldier, his scimitar missing my leg by a scant inch or so, and left him to my back as I lunged between the Manticore and Edmund. I knocked Philip and Edmund both out of the way just as the Manticore leapt. It tackled me as I swung my claymore forward and cut the stinger from its tail. It screamed as it dug its claws into my armor and flesh, rolling me. It screamed again, "Narnians! Yours killed my mate, now I take my revenge!"

I grappled with the mate of the Manticore Sepphora had slain, finally wrapping my arms around its neck and squeezing as I rolled us both so she was on her back and I managed to regain my footing. The Manticore's teeth and claws dug into me as I did so, until I dropped my hold and reared up. I slammed my hooves against her head, stunning her long enough for me to pull my swords free of their scabbards. She roared then hissed as she lunged for me. I met her with one blade aimed for her foul heart and the other for her mouth. She fell, still cursing the Narnians who had rid the world of her mate.

I heard a roar go up around me, but for some reason I could not discern what was being said or who was speaking. I turned to check on the colts, but nearly fell. I scowled and shook my head slightly as I struggled to keep myself upright. Edmund, my dark colt, appeared in front of me, looking most alarmed. Ardon appeared next to him and lunged for me as my vision went black.

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! Okay, so Kat's awake but not out of the woods just yet and Oreius...well, he's in trouble too. One chapter left. Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one.**


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... I also don't own the Narnian Calendar. It belongs to Elecktrum who was kind enough to let me borrow it for my story. Her own stories are awesome and you should go read them too.

Summary: Stitches... And the worst patients the healers of Cair Paravel have ever dealt with are... Part One-Part of the 24 in 24 Authors' Challenge.

A/N: Short story requested/suggested by Lady Firewing. Hope you enjoy it! This is part of my _A Light in the Darkness_ universe but can be read as a standalone.

**Part Five  
**

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I was finally feeling a little stronger (you know strong enough that my stitches were an itching plague all the time but not quite strong enough that I could reach them and get out of bed on my own). I had heard the commotion when the healers all ran out of the healers' wing yesterday, but no one had told me what was going on. I eyed the edge of the cot, wondering if it would hurt less to sort of slide over the edge or if I should just take my chances sitting up (Tuulea and Alithia would probably kill me either way). Peter and Edmund suddenly stepped inside, looking half-asleep and bone-weary, but alive and whole.

I frowned a little, "I'm surprised the Kentauri isn't with you. What's he doing? Double-checking on the palace guards?"

They exchanged a Look. Peter turned back to me, "Kat. Oreius is...was hurt bad during the battle."

Edmund quickly took over the tale, "There was a Manticore. Oreius stopped her before she could reach me. The healers with us were worried that they wouldn't be able to stop the bleeding in time. But, they did. Although, they all agree that he really needs Lucy's cordial if he hopes to make a full and speedy recovery. And, her ship won't make it back to Cair Paravel for at least two days and that is if the storm weakens too."

I could hardly believe what they were telling me, oh wait, yes I could because Murphy was involved. I held my right hand out to them, "Help me up."

They exchanged wary looks before Peter hesitantly asked, "Are you sure you should be moving?"

I raised an eyebrow, "Look, either you two help me or I will get up on my own and do you want to guess which one Alithia and Tuulea are going to object to the most?"

They were also probably concerned I would tear my stitches out if they didn't help, so they reluctantly helped me get out of the cot. I was already wearing a light robe (I had been a little cold...and Tuulea thought keeping me in layered sleeves would keep me from trying to itch those interminably annoying stitches), and a glance out the window told me it was raining (still) and it was probably fairly late in the evening, all of which meant I wasn't going to stick out quite as much as I would have if there had been a ton of people bustling around. My stitches pulled slightly but then that sensation disappeared, so at least they hadn't done anything they shouldn't yet (apparently creating the sensation that an anthill has invaded my side is something stitches should do...and sadly Narnia doesn't have anti-itch cream...they have salves, which have a severely limited effectiveness period in my personal and unashamedly, completely biased opinion).

The boys helped me sneak out of the healers' wing and then we headed for the Kentauri's quarters. I could hear him growling at some hapless soul before we even reached his quarters. Oh, someone should hang the Beware of Grumpy Centaur General sign on those doors...

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I glared at the two junior healers, one of which was that Linus, the third had already retreated from my quarters, probably to alert Alithia. "There is no reason for me to neglect my duties. I also do not need you hovering and getting in the way. And, do not attempt to restrain me again."

The two Fauns exchanged looks before I shifted so I could get out of bed and then they both took several steps toward me before freezing under my glare. Linus seemed to be trying to redeem himself for what had happened with Sepphora as he stuttered, "B-b-but, G-g-g-general, you w-w-were t-t-terribly in-injured d-d-d-during the b-b-b-battle. Y-y-you n-n-need t-t-t-to w-w-wait f-f-for the c-cor-cordial b-b-before m-m-m-moving."

He paled even further as I glared at him then growled, "The cordial is unnecessary and should be reserved for those actually in need of it."

I ignored the small flashes of pain radiating from where the Manticore had sunk her teeth and claws into me. After all, it was not so bad that I couldn't move enough to take care of my duties. A familiar feminine voice interrupted, "Oreius, quit terrorizing the junior healers. They are just trying to do their assigned tasks."

Katerina Alambiel walked a little further into the room, ignoring the Kings as they quietly beckoned the junior healers to join them in the parlor and the resulting flurry of whispers. She was awake, that was…good, but she obviously was in no condition to be up and sneaking out of the healers' wing. I frowned at her, "Clearly they should have been assigned to watch you instead." I noticed the Kings carrying her chair in from its place in my study, but I changed my mind about ordering them to take it back where it belonged once I saw how pale Alambiel had become and instead pointed at the chair, "Sit down before you fall, Sepphora."

She stuck her tongue out at me, but did sit before retorting, "Well, at least I didn't let a Manticore turn me into a chew toy."

"A chew toy?"

"Yes, a chew toy. Don't you know it would have been a lot more convenient for you and everyone else if you had just stabbed the Manticore in the mouth immediately after cutting off the stinger?"

I rolled my eyes, "Alambiel, you act as though I intended for the Manticore to sink her claws in me."

"Claws and teeth, actually."

I ignored the cheeky little pest's interruption as I continued, "And, if you had not nearly gotten yourself killed, perhaps you could have shared your experience about the _proper_ way to quickly dispatch a Manticore."

"Technically, what happened wasn't my fault, it was yours."

I raised an eyebrow, "My fault?"

She nodded, "Yes, because you're the one who actually tore my stitches out. Although, I do admit I shouldn't have gone to training with freshly put in stitches, it's still your fault."

I should have liked to have thrown her in the sea at that moment. "You admit you shouldn't have been training, and it is still _my_ fault?"

She flashed me a cheeky smile as she nodded again, "Oh yes. Would you like to hear my full theory as to how I've come to that conclusion?"

"No."

She grinned as she shifted in the chair then looked thoughtful, "You don't happen to own a red sweater, do you, Kentauri?"

"No. Why?"

"No reason in particular. Consider it my random question of the day, and- Oreius, do not try to get out of that bed." She gave me a stern look, "You're on bed rest until Lucy gets back."

I glared at her, "Isn't that where _you_ are supposed to be as well?"

Alambiel gave me a haughty look, "Perhaps, but I don't have nearly so many stitches as you do; therefore, I get more leeway."

"I rather doubt that, Sepphora."

She merely shrugged a shoulder, "I know my limits and I can see your limits, so I warn you now, if you don't settle back and stay still, I will sit on you and make sure you stay put until Alithia can drug you into compliance, you boneheaded Stallion."

I was tempted to laugh both at her name-calling and at her threat, but my injuries protested sharply when I tried to move again and she stood up, coming closer to me. She arched an eyebrow in silent challenge for me to take her threat as anything but serious. I held up my hand slightly in acquiescence and eased back until my injuries no longer protested. The last thing I needed was for Alambiel to hurt herself trying to keep me still...Alithia would never let me hear the end of it if that happened...and neither would Alambiel. Still, I muttered, "I do have paperwork to take care of and other duties that would not place much stress on my injuries."

Alambiel tilted her head then turned and walked out of the room. I listened for the door, but I didn't hear her go out it. Instead, she came back in awkwardly cradling a stack of paperwork with her right arm. She glanced at me, "You know it's not going to kill you to take a break from paperwork, but if it keeps you still..."

She set the stack down in the chair then moved the chair a little closer to the bed. I grabbed her hand as she handed me a single report and squeezed lightly, "My thanks."

Alambiel smiled, "You're welcome, Kentauri, but if anyone asked, I only brought these in here after you made a huge fuss about it."

I grinned until I realized she was planning to read the reports too and then I rolled my eyes, "Sepphora, how many times must I tell you not to touch?"

She stuck her tongue out at me, "Like I ever listen to you?"

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14 Fairdawn 1003

I grinned as I reached both arms above my head and stretched then rotated my upper body, positively relishing the freedom of movement (not to mention the freedom from itchiness). Then, I impulsively hugged Lucy, who giggled, before I asked, "Have you already been to visit the Kentauri?"

She nodded, "Yes, he was also very happy to get out of bed."

I smirked, "I'm sure, and all the healers are relieved to hear that they no longer have to avoid or tiptoe past his quarters in order to keep from drawing the wrath of the grumpy General."

"That is an exaggeration, Sepphora." I turned to see the Kentauri had come into my quarters (but, of course...I suspect he was both checking up on me and trying to get me to do something I wasn't going to want to do). He bowed to Lucy, "Your majesty, it is good to have you home."

Lucy beamed as she curtsied, "It's good to be home, General. Oh, I have to go have lunch with Susan and Peter and Edmund." She waved at us and then she dashed out of my quarters.

I crossed my arms as I looked at Oreius. Truthfully, we had spent most of our waking hours until Lucy got home late last night either going over the Kentauri's paperwork (of which he had way too much, no matter what he says) or bickering over our injuries, our care, our treatment of the healers (Oreius was definitely a grumpier patient than I was), and our different solutions to his paperwork (I don't know why he got so riled up over a harmless suggestion of the proper use of a flame...). Tuuulea and Alithia had apparently decided to just let us have at it since it kept us from giving the healers a hard time by continually trying to escape bed/chair rest. Now, Oreius gave me an impassive look, "Sepphora, where is the report for your encounter with the Fell on the first of Fairdawn?"

Typical. "I didn't write one up."

Oreius pointed toward my study, "Then, you will do so now. I want a full report of what happened…especially considering the consequences."

I rolled my eyes, but didn't protest verbally. Instead, I asked for clarification, "Do you want me to include the part where you popped my stitches?"

He gave me the patented I'm-the-General-and-I'm-not-amused-with-your-antic s scowl, "Perhaps I should supervise the writing of this report in order to make sure you recall everything after your encounter with the Fell accurately."

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**A/N: Please Read and Review! All right, thus concludes _Stitches_, hopefully, you enjoyed it. Leave a review and let me know what y'all thought about this one.**


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